Ribboncutter VN Project

"Having trouble breathing? It's because of that leaf on your head, stupid."
I try to take it off. It doesn't move.
"What are you doing? Take it off."
No matter how hard I pull, it doesn't come off. I start to choke and cough a bit. The leaf feels like it's going out of its way to humiliate me. How did this thing even get there?"
"Oh, oh wow... You're a bit dramatic, huh?"
A mosaic of colors made itself visible in front of me, almost like non-existent stained glass. Its presence is making me sweat even further. My fingers keep slipping on these two leaves affixed to my head. "REMOVE IT REMOVE IT!!!"

Ending ideas

"You cant expect for us all to feel bad for you, you did this to yourself!"
I try to remember when it was that I even had the idea for the leaf, but the thought got washed away in my continual panic. By now it feels like I've been choking for years. This air just feels wrong. I can't explain it. I can't breathe.
"Help, s-somebody..." I manage to say. I even reach my hand out to the glass mosaic. The closer my hand gets, the angrier it feels. I pull my hand back.
It didn't feel like anything, but now I see my hand soaked in blood. Looking harder at it, it's been disfigured and marred, flesh hanging off in clumps, bones exposed. I'm too lightheaded to feel anything about it.
Without even thinking, I stumbled towards the angry glass.
I feel the air release. My lungs finally fill with air but so does a million tiny sharp blades in a rainbow of colors, feeling my body get diced to pieces.
I'm now just a pile of flesh on the ground. In a white room. With that leaf beside me.
There isnt even the memory of what kind of leaf it was.

"-okay, very funny. Now knock it off."
"MINT!"
That voice every morning. The one that just sounds like a disappointment, anger, exhaustion, and a tiny, tiny bit of love.
I fast-forward through the routine. The bus stop and the eyes that accompany it greet me. I remmber what my voice is supposed to sound like.
The daily class conveyer belt. Inching away and feeling slower today.
Picture day! I didn't even know. Stand on the two dots and...
(Image of Mint)
(She looks a little tired and scared, wearing mid-early 2000s girls fashion)
"Okay everyone, since none of you can behave, you all have assigned seats. So line up here, single file, and..."
Tiresome, it's so tiresome. I wish I had the invisibility that the covenant guy in Halo 2 has, except forever.
I sit with my styrofoam tray of chicken sandwich, mashed potatoes, and foil pouch of frozen orange juice. Two bored-looking guys, scared-looking girl and... pimple-looking guy. I try to eat quickly so I can pull out

some old worksheets that sort of look like homework. The scared-looking girl taps me on the shoulder.
"Uumm... Do you need any help with that?"
"I had that class two years ago."
Two years ago...? She must be some kind of genius. I take a look at her again. Really long, wispy, messy grey hair, she spilled something on her shirt earlier.
"I'm good..." I try to turn away and start to pull out my notebooks. I pick an empty page and start to write something, anything. Anything to get her to stop paying attention to me. The page I'm writing on runs out of space so I flip to another, but have to first flip through all the-
"Wait what's that?" Pale-hair girl interjects.
"Nothing."
"O-oh, ok..." We sit in silence until the bell rings.
The rest of the day is its usual hurt. PE class is last this semester. I try to sit as far away from everyone else on the bus.

They can't know that I smell when I sweat. I clench my teeth until the bus is out of sight.
I seem to have memorized every cornfield here and it's only been a year.
...
(Mint flips through her notebook)
(A few drawings of fairly mundane things, drawings of bunnies, bunnies with sharp teeth biting people)
4/28/200X
The townspeople are at a loss. Never before has such a small creature wreaked so much havoc especially in the village. Countermeasures could be put in place, but the ones who would be able to do the most have fallen victim... to this.. strange disease. Languishing, lagomorphically, in simple terms. The details... Almost too much to bear. Every resident bitten by the rabbits have-
(A loud thud interrupts Mint)
(It's followed by several louder thuds)
(She looks at her door)

(her face shows unease.)
(her breathe a bit more labored)
(she climbs into bed as shouting begins from behind the walls)

--
The next day...
(Mint is looking very tired sitting at her assigned lunch table.)
Sunrosa taps Mint on the shoulder.
"Hhey, what does this mean?"
(She points at a passage in a book with a sentence that says "Lagomorphic")
"I thought you were like, really smart or something" Mint says.
Sunrosa gives her an offended look then looks away. "I'm... not so good with words." Sunrosa says sheepishly.
"Oh, I see. Sorry." Mint says.
"It means relating to rabbits or something like that."
"Thanks." Sunrosa writes something in her notebook. She closes it and Mint looks at the name written on the cover. Ibis Sunrosa.

--
Mint is shown later that night drawing in her sketchbook. She's panicked, drawing in large, dramatic strokes. She stops and

has a large sigh. Her eyes close, fading to black...
(The following is assuming that Mint has been bullied in some way this day and is now having a dream about it.)
(some kind of horrifying anxiety inducing dream will go here.)

--
Mint is shown at recess conversing with a group of what is assumed to be friends. She looks over one of her friends shoulders and sees Sunrosa walking by, pacing around, jotting things down in a notebook.
Mint breaks away from her group to talk to Sunrosa.
"I don't even think, er... I never got your name." "Your name is Ibis right?" Ibis starts to squint suspiciously. "It was on your notebook." Ibis has a slight look of relief. "Oh." Ibis returns to her pacing. She looks up and down while rubbing her chin.
Mint doesn't know how to proceed and so she leaves Ibis to her business.

"How much of it?" A large hand is set on my shoulder. I don't know what to say back.
"How much?" Uhh... I try to figure things out, but the puzzle pieces all crumble once I feel the hand grip my shoulder even tighter. "W-what are-"
"HOW MUCH OF IT?" The voice roars at me before I can finish.
"You, always you, reutrning to that well. You know it, too. That you're always able to just leave it and yet, you..." The voice quivers slightly. I'm afraid. It's the kind of voice you don't want to hear breaking.
"My heart... My heart..." The shakiness devolves to tears. I try to reassemble. There isn't an easy form I can visually grasp onto. Just the voice of a very, very disappointed entity. I don't know what it is, but I just know that this isn't something I ever want to hear again for as long as I live, and yet that faith in myself feels like a useless gesture.
It'll happen again.
I know it.

A knife flings blood across the snow. The heavy breathing of a hunter, a hunter of some sort. Skinned carcasses dot the landscape, flung in every direction. I sit in a cove, cold but feeling the slightest amount of safety. Safety in knowing the hunter can't see me. Humans are likely on the easier side of animals when it comes to hunting. Those are the words that I'd imagine would come from the hunter's mouth. The trophies that surround her tell me so much already. In this moment I wish I were just a white feather lost in the snowy landscape, but I am cursed to have this body instead. This body that shifted its weight all a little too suddenly. That also has skin. That also has its limits. I can't describe what happens next. The memories aren't there. Probably aren't sufficient words for it. A child would probably be excited to learn how many

things are red. It's too bad.

--
Cover your ears. The cold eventually graduates to burning, otherwise. A little ironic, when you think about it.

--
A warm wetness on my forehead. I feel it drip down to the bridge of my nose and just barely then does it register. Blood. I look at the redness that that stains my fingertips. Figures behind my hand continue to loom around my body, but there's only the slightest connection I can feel between my senses. These thoughts take all of my energy... In place of being able to move, I think.
(Thud)
Something strikes me and I curl up. Blurriness. Nausea. Laughter. The figures disappear, I catch the last few words as my senses reutrn to me.
"Fucking freak."

--
Replay. Replay. Replay. It's all my mind is capable of doing, it seems

What should I have done? Should I have fought back? Gotten the first swing before they did? Would it have even helped?
I touch the bandage on my forehead. The wound underneath stings, warm with the blood that rushed to the area.
I roll to my side. Every movement needs extra effort through the pain. Bruises line my stomach. I can still smell my own vomit.
Should I get back at them?
I'd probably get expelled...
I still can't believe they got away with it. I tighten my fist, but my face feels hot. Tears force their way through. Why? I don't try to hurt anyone. I just want to be left alone. Their faces, one by one, flash through my vision. Do they even feel bad for this?
... Am I that hideous? I slam the side of my fist onto the bedsheets. Another tear forms.
I still have to go back tomorrow.

--

Mint sits at the lunch table covering her face. She has no plate of food in front of her, unlike everyone else. Sunrosa, worried look on her face, starts "Ahem, Mint?" Mint looks up timidly. "Do you want any of my fries?" Mint looks lost. Her face painted with a wide mix of emotions. She stars off to the distance, not responding. "S-sorry." Sunrosa nervously says. She turns away, and as she does, Mint turns to look at her. A mix of intensity, paranoia, pain, and fascination.

--
Mint sits on a swing. She doesn't try to swing at all. OThers are seen sneaking glances at her and whispering.

--
Later she's on the bus. The same look. She sways with the bus turning but still stays as still as possible.

--
Later, in Mint's journal...
A plume of thick black smoke. An emergency, the picture-perfect example of one. Scratchy lines in colored pencil all over the page. She's taken

to ripping the poages out and lining her desk with them in a grid. They, combined, show a greater image of the situation.
"A 100-mile path of destruction rips through Foamfield. 98% of manmade structures are destroyed, either demloshed or ripped out of the ground and thrown around. Gasoline plant nearby is struck with the debris and set aflame. The flames prove to be too much. The glowing tanks explode spectacularly, through the middle of the storm. The flames that result are swept up by the cyclone, the meancing torrent of wind, creating a bright tube of smoke and fire. The sight of which would be burned into the minds of many forever."
Many thuds are heard from behind the walls of Mint's bedroom.
She continues to write and draw uninterrupted, her face showing her in an almost possessed state.

The next day her school does a tornado drill. All of the kids are shown huddled in the corners of the halls. Mint's face is shown. An expression of bewilderedness.

--
I'm scared. Scared of what's coming. I wish I hadn't wrote that. Or drawn that. I know it'll happen now.

--
"Mint S. Decot, please come to the principal's office"
Mint shuffles her way down the halls. She takes her time getting there, visibly nervous. She doesn't know what it it is that she did or what they think she did. Her face in center frame. Bandaged.
"One of your teachers is concerned, concerned for you, Mint." Mint looks puzzled. "Can we see your notebooks?"

--
Mint is sitting on her bed hugging her knees in silence. She stars at her closed notebook from across the room.

--
Mint is sitting in a nearly empty

classroom. On the whiteboard are the words "Saturday School". A teacher sits on her computer in the corner. Sunrosa sits on the very opposite side of the clssroom. While the teacher looks distracted, Sunrosa waves to try to get get the attention of Mint. Mint sees her. Ibis rolls her eyes and smiles, saying silently "This is all so stupid." Mint smiles.

--
"I... cheated on a test, actually. I copied some stuff from Wikipedia onto an essay, to be exact."
"I didn't think they knew what that was."
Sunrosa and Mint sit at a bench together. Sunrosa then says "Oh hey, your scar's starting to fade."
They sit in silence for a little while longer.
"How do... drawings hurt people...?"
Sunrosa looks surprised. She looks off for a little bit, thinking about it.
"I think... scaring people is a little like hurting them. But..." Sunrosa points at the scar on Mint's forehead. "I don't think it's like that, though."

--

Mint is walking through the halls when Sunrosa notices her and flags her down. She hands her an envelope. Mint immediately opens it and reads the card inside.
"Birthday party...?"

--
Sunrosa and Mint sit at a bowling alley, the sound deafening but the two smiling, a little bit at each other too. A pizza is delivered to their table. Sunrosa, excited, perhaps a little too much immediately grabs a piece and takes a bite, burning her mouth in the process. Mint has a little laugh. The two laugh and have fun together. Mint, while eating pizza begins to choke on the ridiculously thick cheese. Sunrosa takes a fist to Mint's back, and she coughs out the half-chewed cheese onto the table. The two laugh about it after.

--
That night, Mint only glances at her notebook, but decides it to be better to do something else

Dream
"Okay, remember the instructions we gave you. They were very, very clear!" In front of Mint and Sunrosa are some office supplies, though with some odd objects mixed in. Stapler, markers, post-it notes, shrimp. Tennis balls? "The green sheets go with the purple, purple with the pink, the pink with blue. If you're missing material, consult your internal supplier." Mint notices she has none of these papers. Suddenly, she feels something in her throat. She coughs and coughs but nothing. She then reaches into her mouth then her throat, and starts to pull out crumpled sheets of papers in the corresponding colors. Her face shows she's distraught. Sunrosa is shown having done the saame.
"No time to waste here >:(!"

--

(There are three illustrations at the top of this page. The first: A heart with sad eyes in them. The second: A heart with Mint's leaf in it. The third: A heart being cut in half by scissors.)

The Circle of Love and Companionship in Ribboncutter

(An illustration showing a circular graph. "Mint" with an arrow with the words "romantic love" next to it pointing to the next word at the bottom right. "Sunrosa", the arrow from that says "deep kinship", points to "Parasite." An arrow from Parasite that says "romantic love" points to "Mailwash." Mailwash's arrow points to Mint. The arrow says "deep kinship".)

School life arc road map
4. Introduce Mint
5. What plagues Mint
6. Introduce Sunrosa
7. Bring the two closer together
8. Introduce Parasite
9. What plagues Sunrosa
10. Puzzling tangent with Parasite
11. Mint begins to stop drawing as she becomes happier with Sunrosa being her friend.
12. Parasite goes missing
13. The horror begins
14. Things continue to ramp up
15. Parasite's body is found
16. The nap begins

Mint and Sunrosa now smile upon seeing each other. They spend days making idle chatter at their lunch table everyday. Mint's outlook on things improve knowing she's made a new companion. Sunrosa begins to open up to Mint about her personal life.

--
Girl named Harvest
An embodiment of agriculture and gardening in the midwest. Her limbs are prosthetics made of gardening equipment. Maybe she's also part scarecrow. Might look a little like the "midwestern specimens" drawing. A midboss. One of many smaller antagonists.

--
It all just shattered upon impact. Irreparable. You could watch the impact in your head again and again. Actually your head would always just play it on repeat for you. The sight beyond sickening, beyond haunting. Her body led no movements after. Her memory was always stained with this single action. In a life full of so many horrifying ones, it was the worst.

"It would kill you instantly, in a flash. You would not even have the time to feel it."
The loaded revolver tucked in her bag carries a weight that causes her to have to shift her weight while walking.
All of the selected participants huddle their way in and find a seat. Some are noticably less composed. One notices the halo above the far girl's head and quickly turns away, trying not to draw attention to themselves.
After long preparations, the vessel sets forth. Four notably well groomed and cheery individuals chat lively near the largest porthole. The pink-haired anomaly's fist tights at the sight.
After hours and hours, the vessel reaches depths that no man could ever normally survive. Through a camera, particles illuminated by spotlights float by. Occasional vague shapes make their way across the corners of the composition. Clapping and self-congratulating among the so-called accomplished and respected.
"We have now reached the sea floor."
A few stand up to try to peek through the portholes. During this commotion, a clicking is heard. An unmistakeable

heavy clicking from the middle of the luxury submersible. With no sweat, no panic across her pale face, Parasite wields a .357 magnum in one hand. Then points it at each of the four elites, slowly panning between them. They nervously fling their arms up in the air and remain motionless. Parasite's plan had finally worked. She points the firearm to the porthole. The other inhabitants start to step toward her, but before any kind of a struggle could even begin, a bang. A bang then a crack, then the blip at the sea floor goes dark.

--
She scribbles in her notebook, tilting her head from side to side slowly. There comes an empty, a nice empty, that takes hold of her. Like being draped with a blanket by your lover during the late hours. The thought brings her pause. Where did she see that before. Some movie, a TV show? She taps her fingers on the page and sets her colored

pencil down.
The next morning she stands on the sidewalk in the fog. A long, solitary wait. Where are the other kids from down the street?
...Oh. Oh no. She runs back inside. Her calendar says Saturday.

--
"A little, umm... worrying, I'd have to say?"
"And why's that??"
Mint sits with her hands on her lap, looking down. The sound of the confrontation in front of her is drowned out. Instead, other more important thoughts. Stick figures fighting to Linkin Park. Her drawings. Her characters. Flash games. Maybe soon she'll be out of here.

She wipes the sweat from her brow. The work in front of her presents itself. Tilling the land, and moving the dirt around. She never thought that she'd one one day have to be doing these kinds of things to survive, but times have been stranger to her. She wipes

a bit of dirt from her eye.
Her adult body is made known to the viewer. She wears a white tanktop and a beige skort, every bit of clothing stained with dirt and sweat. Her eyes trace the treeline ahead of her occasionally. She walks the perimeter of her vegetable patch. Later she removes her gloves and sets them on the kitchen counter. She wraps her arm in gauze, wincing slightly as the tape tightens. She then sits and stares out of the window. Nothing in sight. Tree after tree. Maybe a hot bath is in order.

--
She bounces her leg up and down with a distant stare on her face. How much of this is just a test? Is it even real?
It feels like I was just dropped here, ripped away from everything I knew previously. I wish I knew what happened in those missing years.

--

The chills won't stop. Making their way up and down her body as she lays on her cot. The routines aren't working. I'm alive but I'm lost. I'm able to do things, to take care of myself, but something feels like it's missing. It won't stop bothering me.

--
Anger. Anger. Anger. Anger.
She screams as she swings the sledgehammer around. Sounds of crickets, the scene illuminated by the moonlight. The final swing meets the wheelbarrow, sending a loud crash to echo across the empty landscape. She heavily breathes and closes her eyes. Coyotes howl in the distance

--
The next morning she pours a cup of tea and gently sets it on the table, cutely smiling at her guest.
"Thanks." The formally-dressed deep-voices guest shows their gratitude. Mint turns around to start pouring her own cup, but her mind is elsewhere. Her eyes dart back to the cup and she takes

a moment to compose herself before deciding to pour herself a glass. The chills set in once again after she picks up the kettle and she then puts it down again. A tick of frustration, followed by hollowness.

--
"We'll make it." The two nod in sync.
The timing between them feels practiced, but they'll always tell you that it's just natural. The pile of burning garbage illuminates the whole lawn outside of the window. Mint looks for places to set her gaze, feeling like even her eyes are being studied by the two. She plays with the feeling of her hands, thinking of something to say.
She'd only encountered the twins once before, bumping into them during one of her "episodes". They didn't seem very concerned, it was like it was any other Tuesday.
"Have you improved your condition since we last met?" Mint is taken back at how her thoughts seemed to line up

with theirs in just that moment.
Her eyes dart back to the mass of flames.
"A bit, yes." She plugs a typical-sounding response, trying to not feel like she's just had her mind read. "We're sorry if that just isn't our concern." Their choices of words intrigue Mint. It's as if there's a half-hearted effort to appear more fancy, but she can't put her finger on why there's only half the effort. Communication has felt wrong to her since this strange period in her life began.
Mint takes notice of their appearance as they stand in a spot illuminated by the fire. Farmy dresses on for the both of them. Their hair styles feel mirrored. Both these ginger-haired anomalies.
"Well, since you haven't made an attempt on our lives, we should explain ourselves..."

--
The Bitters
A set of twin girls who offer magic mushrooms to people in Foamfield. They believe in their healing properties and do not seek to make a profit, just to

cultivate peace in Foamfield. Mint encounters them during one of her sledgehammer sessions, but they nonchalantly walk away. She soon realizes that they live nearby and so she decides to pay them a friendly visit.

--
Mint presses the cigarette to her lips while looking at the sky. A rare treat. With a blue sky.
The sky in Foamfield feels great almost every single day. Today, however, it doesn't feel entirely hopeless. Mint recalls seeing the pack of cigarettes left in the mailbox by Mailwash. Mint idly flicks the cigarette while looking down from the roof. An animal of some sort curries into the bushes. She keeps her eye on it. Rustling and shaking leaves;. Mint cranes her neck forward. At last the animal makes itself seen. It's... another one of those. It resembles an oversized rodent with very scarred and bloody fur. Parts of it, including some limbs, seem to be

replaced by patchwork plush animal limbs. They aren't as sturdy as normal flesh and bone, and so it hobbles with a gait to compensate for those abnormal limbs. The creature doesn't seem to be trying to do anything specific, just aimlessly wandering about, almost as if it were a reanimated corpse. Mint looks away at the thought. If it happened to the animals, then...
She blinks the thought away and puts the cig back between her lips.

--
Mint shivers a bit, then takes a deep breath. She switches the flashlight on then steps into the farmhouse. Dead silence. The light reflects off the moldy white walls, the fine china, the old appliances. Wish I hadn't stayed out so late... She curses herself.
The farmhouse, like many others, are in the typical state of ruin. The owners nowhere to be seen, the vegetation overgrown, the interior a time capsule. Mint carefully picks through cabinets and drawers, pulling out

and stashing anything that seems useful. A small tub of vaporub. Matches. A much-need metal chain. She notices a picture frame on a shelf that's face down. Curious, she lifts it. Two faces smiling. One has a dot of whipped cream on her nose. The frame itself is cracked. Mint looks away, a brief thought she pushes away for another time.
Fastening herself and readying her hunting knife, she slowly begins her way upstairs. She stops halfway up the stairs. Something about the echo of her steps didn't sound right. She listens for a little while, trying to be as still as possible. A soft thump, is heard from one of the dark bedrooms. And again. Again. Rhythmic. Consistent. Another deep breath, then Mint decides to investigate.
First bedroom. Kids room. Soccer balls painted on the walls. Second bedroom. Very neat and empty. A guest room? Third room,

largest and at the end of the hall. Mint pokes her flashlight in behind the wall, hopefully drawing out something that could be waiting for her. Nothing, nothing except the thump. Reluctantly, she pokes her head into the bedroom and scans the room with the flashlight. Closet. Dresser. Window. Bed--
Movement. Mint ducks back, startled.
The source of the thump.
She clenches her teeth and gulps. Hopefully it's not another one.
There's another thump. Mint shines the flashlight on the dirty bed. A skinny, grey hand, limp, raised to the air falls back to the bed. Thump. It struggles its way back up, then falls again, thump. Mint says a silent prayer to herself. Connected to the hand... A blankified mother and child. The child lay motionless, while the mother, her face frozen in mild fear, raises her hand again and again. The bodies, like most blankified victims, have had their skin partially turned to cloth.

--
The blinding light fades. What's left is two leaves, falling through a mild wind, gently landing on a girl. A girl who lies on her side in the grass, unconscious. Slowly she comes to. Groggy and disoriented, like she slept a decade. She looks down at her hands... maybe it really has been a decade.
She shakes her overgrown hair about. Something doesn't feel right. She traces her hands from the top of her head to a shape that sits stuck to the side of her head. A stray leaf? She pulls on it hoping to pluck it away and discard it, but it doesn't budge at all. The harder she pulls, the more it stretches, seemingly elastic, but looking like a completely ordinary set of two leaves. After some struggle, she gives up on it and decides her efforts should be better spent on getting to her feet and gathering her bearings.

--

We weren't qualified to be doing any of this. It sickened me, to be honest.
"Out of necessity."
"Her or us."
I would much have rather it be us.
It will be hard to forget the day you were brought to us. There was a long list of reasons why were told not to worry.
Anatomical replica. Missing sentience. Mimicking sentience. Actually can't feel pain. There were a lot of advancements being made behind closed doors that I was not being made aware of, but still, work is work, I thought.
They cleared out the lab at the end of the hall and marked it "DO NOT ENTER". I thought I'd seen a mattress being rolled in as well.
Observations were first. Our first time working on something, someone human, or close to it (like they were saying).
Weird feeling in my stomach.
Proceed as normal.

mint-getsscared.png
We took turns going in with clipboards. It was all pretty haphazard. Looking over some of the other things written it was clear that some of the team were only doing the bare minimum. She only opened her eyes once that day.

mint-trapped.jpg
Green eyes...? Maybe what they told us was actually true. I was still skeptical. You were sure scared while in that plexiglass box. Why didn't they drill air holes?

mint-experiment-nyquilchicken.png
Some kind of trend was going on out there. A new health food. Chicken boiled in cough syrup. I think we didn't need to test that one.

mint-holdingbunny.png
On the other side of the facility, they were parading around this oddly-shaped rabbit. No idea how they made it look like that. She took a liking to it.

Mouthing words to it. We couldn't get a clear recording of what she was saying to it.

YOU MAY HAVE ETHICAL CONCERNS WITH THIS STUDY HOWEVER ALL APPEALS ARE CURRENTLY BEING REVIEWED BY MANAGEMENT AND SO WORK SHALL PROCEED AS NORMAL!

THOSE WHO MAY HAVE ETHICAL CONCERNS WITH THIS STUDY: MANAGEMENT IS CURRENTLY REVIEWING THE MAXIMUM NUMBER OF APPEALS, NONE ADDITIONAL MAY BE SUBMITTED! RESEARCH SHALL PROCEED AS PLANNED!

Our illustrations are inadequate in capturing her state in most instances. Cameras are prohibited in this study for reasons undisclosed.

They started to call you 'Mint' but I can't seem to figure out why. Your eyes, maybe?

Again, we're being left in the dark about so much. 623 has no memory of us meeting us. I am annoyed-- This interferes with a test I had planned today.

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Very VERY manic today. Talking with her hands but not out loud. Weird look in her eyes. Was told to skip any plans we had for her today.

mint-poisoncoffee.png
Not an observation (DO NOT COPY)
Dreamt of 623. It was cold out. We stood out on my porch. A snow plow drove by. You 623 with two coffee cups one in each hand. She hands me one and smiles.

mint-itgetsworse.png
562 mental state in notable regression. Hugging and clinging to staff throughout the day.

mint-cornerphoto.png
Consistent, unexplained bruises all over 623.

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(no data)

mint-experiment-3clones3.png
There is a consistent supply of them coming in now. All relatively the same behavior-wise.

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The artificial terrarium in the break area was just installed. Funny that they complain of costs then turn around do shit like this. 732 was allowed to enjoy and smell the (artificial) flowers.

mint-mantis.png
Hard to come up with a proper summary. They say to be objective, scientific, as verbose as possible, but I just don't know how to do that here. I fear for my life. I'm looking for a way out, but they're holding so much I work for hostage. I hope that something like this never happens again. God rest their souls, Anthony, Emi, Binita, Terry.

Hyperemesis in 723 627. Bedridden. Looking very pale, difficult to replenish fluids. Round-the-clock nurse detail. Tries to get a few words out from time to time. "Dry", "Burn", "Needle", "Wet". We are sorely unequipped.

mint-skinsample.png
A test being outsourced to the other side of the world requesting one (1) "skin sample with attached muscle, any part of the body". I feel I can still hear the screams of agony. I hope they find what it is they were looking so hard for.

mint-wafflehouse.png
Somehow she heard us behind the door talking about waffles. That curiosity of hers... For doing so well during the week, a celebration reward was in order.

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Many on staff cold-heartedly refer to her as a lab animal. Her name is Mint, and even though they're all named Mint, they're all unique and carry comprehension abilities just like you and me. And so for those of you mocking her TO HER FACE, I'll make you look like this. You'll suffer even worse if she doesn't make it.

(A shoddy drawing of Mint, next to it is a post-it note that reads: @ MGMT: find & terminate those writer responsible.)

mint-trulyawful.png
Today was met with some surprise when 623 gave me a pretty funny drawing of "fluffy bunny", an imaginary friend, maybe? After showing a couple o fguys in the break room, they all wanna rally to have 623's disposal postponed.

I don't like how that one made me feel. Even though she said it was okay to do, she shook in fear. That part was understandable, but I found myself slowing on every part of the process, observing her reactions so carefully. Her winces through every cut, the gasps and squeals. I almost didn't want it to end.

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I hope everyone else gets to understand what it is I saw in there. Once they do the program is over.

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799 was thrilled to see the rabbit ears growing out of its head. The first smile in a while.

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642 flesh on the right side of body has been turning red. Skin feels normal but has more shine.

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They all carry this same somber expression. I wish someone would just get them some ice cream.

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664- removed clothing and peeled off all bandages, clutching head and hyperventilating until losing consciousness, then waking up and repeating itself.

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Orthodontist on site today. 692 crying from loud sounds.

She is an angel with her wings clipped. Each departure is another arrival to the gates of heaven.

mint-punchedinthestomach
No observations made.

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Interactions simulated, artists renditions

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I wonder if she knew it was our last day together.

In everything you are a volunteer, you volunteered to love and to care for others, you volunteer to stay on this earth. But slowly these things, the implied choice I have, has felt like it's been fading away every time I close my eyes.
No one would willingly receive this. No one willingly would suffer this excruciating pain every day.

I had nothing I was good at and wanted to be useful to someone.

I had nothing I was good at and wanted to be useful to someone.

I had nothing I was good at and wanted to be useful to someone.

I couldn't feel that anger I had about it when i was younger anymore.
I lost all of that energy.
It's much easier to resign than it is to fight an impossible fight.
My life's already almost half over and it doesn't seem like there's any places that I can exist in.
Born with all of the spots taken.
An unfortunate extra.

I had things that I practiced everyday, but it felt like no matter how many years, how many decades, it had no substance, no discipline. Like it was just meant to be discarded. Everyone dreams to have some kind of impact on the world, but after so long, it felt like my destiny was to have none at all.

You get stuck on one fixation, it takes over you, and then before you know it you're planning

your own funeral.

My chest hurts, my head hurts but the only thing I can do is let this stream flow and hope it does some good.

Even though physically theres nothing wrong with me, I find myself wishing there were, so that I'm treated special, so that I'm given some help and consideration.
Because of this I have to fight the urge to do something dramatic to myself, almost everyday.

All of these thoughts just continue to play and repeat overlapping. No room for other thoughts or ambitions.

And I'm terrified of others thinking that it's okay to be this way. It's not. I need to be locked away, treated

as an animal, my healthy organ with more potential than me as a whole.

Today I'll ignore my fears and volunteer. At least when its over, someone will understand that Mint had at least one use.

(An illustration of Mint frowning with one of her eyes missing, the eye socket dripping blood.)

I wish I could be reassembled into something greater. But I know that's just all fiction. All there is is donating my body to science.

And before I break anymore I should remember this is the only choice I have left and so maybe this choice will finally be the one that has a happy ending.

thoughts inadequate
actions inadequate
would find more satisfaction in being some monster's punching bag. an experiment
a failed experiment, an abomination like me only deserves as much.

I barely had any family none of them acted like a family. all i was ever was to them was the outlier, the one to ignore, the one that's only useful when she has things to take from her.
If there were others like me I would be so happy, I want a family I can feel comfortable in.

Harvest my skin and bones andflesh and organs and every and anything else there's truly no use for it either w otherwise
They put me together wrong and so maybe I can be

a good study on what isn't direction humanity doesn't need more of in the world.

please. please. I can't stand living like this anymore. Take me or I'll disappear otherwise

Don't show any reluctance.
I'm a consenting corpse.
Get it in writing.
You can reassure everyone with my words.
I consent.
I, Mint S. Decot, consent.

I'll do it to myself one day anyways

It's unclear what they did.
this subject we've been observing by her documents, shows that is she's 27 years old, but she appears to be much younger, at the very very least, a decade younger. All replicas appear the same way except for the select few who we have underwent genetic modifications.

Mentally, subjects all appear to be devoid of most higher level thoughts. Basic instincts are present, but any attempts at conversation are met with confusion and silence. There is also a complete resistance to verbal communication. Spoken commands and requests to have subject speak have all been unsuccessful. Many childlike properties. Excitement for sugary treats and "play" sessions. Silent laughter and smiles during humorous situations. Positive reactions to cartoons that dont include lots of dialogue.

I spend almost every hour of the day thinking about you.
Your smile, your frown, your laugh, your fears.
I don't understand what I'd be, what everything would look like without you. The things I do to you, the things you ask me to do to you. From the outside it looks absolutely insane. But in my heart it feels right. We're both just very, very sick people. And no matter what happens to us in the end, I'll always have you in the back of my mind. I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

I have4 spent much of today wanting to bash my head against a brick wall. Maybe it'd all just start to make sense if I did. Just horrible chills throughout my whole body. Dependencies the worst they'd ever been.
Making this doesnt make sense anymore. It probly wasn't cra creation that I was meant to be doing.

My blood feels wrong. My skin feels wrong. The body I inhabit feels wrong. There isnt any hope of changing it. My luck ran out, soon my love will too. They'll all give up on me once they realize how fucked up I am.

I'm being boiled slowly.

How did I ever think any of this was going to work out?

The delusion could only carry me so far.

After it there's no more ground to walk on. Just every long fall long and terrifying fall. After seeing so many others go through that same thing, It's my turn.

(A large scratched out section of text)

When I look into a mirror I think to myself "This isn't a person who is going to live long". I see the person in there and feel like this is what the person in the funeral photos will looo look like.

I think about how much medicine has failed me. How much my family has failed me. How much the government has failed me. How much my own actions were unable to compensate for these failures. If people really cared for each other, then they wouldn't have exploited me as a child like they did. I would've been given

at least one chance to make my own life.

And even though my living situation is currently the best its ever been it doesnt come without insane guilt that I'm abusing the kindness of someone else. I could only ever feel good about this if I managed to repay her at the end of all of this, but there is just actually no way I could ever do that.

I'm basically writing a thousand different ways to say that I'm fucked, my situation is fucked, there's no way that it could ever be un-fucked with what I'm doing currently, and so my only option is to sell myself and hope with what I earn that it will be enough to provide for everyone that I love.

I wish living was not this difficult somebody please let me out this isnt fun anymore

You've blown
Blown a fuse blown your cover blown it all
What's left to do but wait?
Everyday it's something else isn't it?
I'd like to be stronger for those that I love but I'mn nothing more than this (redacted). Most of that shouldn't even be mine. I was taken advantage the earliest the law allowed and then it snowballed from there. I've just been running from everything since the moment I decided to

(redacted)

I don't understand the cruelties, the evil we all subject each other to everyday. These soulless bald motherfuckers. No appreciation for life. Cowers at the first hint of trouble. One day someone will

come for you, athen you'll understand what everyone you stepped on felt like. I'll cry in happyness, laughing through hysteric tears as you're dragged face-down through the streets. Catharsis.
I want to treat all the spite as fuel but there are so many kicking me down at the moment that I'm not even getting a chance to breathe.

(redacted)

They're gonna look at me with concern tomorrow. I guess I just need to wear a better face about it. Not really sure what I mean by that...

--
Can hardly stand reading the shit I wrote here a few hours ago. Woke up in a bandage. Peeling it off hurt and made it start bleeding again but it kind of felt good.

(redacted)

(redacted)

(redacted)

(redacted)

(redacted)

(redacted)

Great going answering a question with more questions. Maybe it all is just something I should stop questioning.

(redacted)

(redacted)

(redacted)

(redacted)

(redacted)

(redacted)

I want a hug from (redacted). I want to just watch her exist...

(redacted)

(redacted)

Ribboncutter ribboncutter ribboncutter ribboncutter ribboncutter ribboncutter ribboncutter. This is me writing something that's called ribboncutter.

(redacted)

(redacted)

but there's no coming back from that. It'll be the end

--

(redacted)

--

The Tornadoes and Mint.
A girl of the midwest, Mint has had experience with a tornado before. At a young age, she's had a tornado touch down in the distance. She recalls the bright green hue of the sky and the sirens and the wind and the pressure surrounding

her. She started to understand the world's ferocity from that day. The way that she and everyone else were at the sky's whims. It's stuck out in her mind since then. Drawing tornados, theorizing the possible destruction, imagining the end of the world.
To her, she's always known and has always felt the world would end during her lifetime. Other kids would ask her what it was she's always drawing. She'll tell them about the green sky signaling our end. The trumpet-like sirens. The seas turning pink. The winds at 500 mph. The bodies of everyone turning into cloth and disintegrating. No survivors.
The kids wouldn't know how to respond. Or they would tease her. She was used to both. Being ignored or being bullied.

(redacted)

Are you here to save me and make me feel safe Are you happy with me and my life do you want me to devote more of me to you I know I can't talk to you or see you but I get to know what it is you're feeling when

(redacted)

You are my legacy my child my sister my daughter my mother my everything please

I hope you'll carry on and have journeys long after I'm gone. I love you

(redacted)

You don't feel pain but I do
You dont feel real pain but I do
Its unfair and it makes me unhappy but I'll happily grin and bear it just for you I still don't understand your nature and maybe I'll spend my entire life trying to figure it out but, I'm falling asleep with the pen in my hand and I hope I dream

of you because you never show up in my dreams except for that one time I'll never forget how you laid under that tree crying a single tear of happiness but knowing you're facing your end the dark hands that extend from your heart.

half lucid torture chamber the only place where i can know and understand

love somewhere now no one will ever take me except you it fucking frustrates me so much

--

(redacted)

(redacted)

(redacted)

--

Short 5 (Mint 365)

floor in a dimly lit room.
A single candle is lit at the opposite corner of the room. There are no windows but there is a single door. The door has a slot that only opens from the outside.

--
Everyday she is given another tool that while is useful to her and making her more comfortable can also be used to harm herself. Examples include, razors for shaving, candle for scent, needle for sewing, rope for exercise, painkillers... Mint has to battle with the urge to misuse these objects.

--

thing in front of her isnt real. But it is. A poor girl, terrified before her last moments, now turned to fabric and stuck to the wall for as long as the fabric lasts, though it may as well just be an eternity.

--
You scare me, a lot you know?
It's all darkness, bloodshed, suffering with you. What's wrong with you? Are you that much of a masochist? I'm scared of you.

--
A door opens and the light shines into a room. It reveals a body in a pose of sudden shock and fear. Then Mint looks up and sees the face. A girl blankified, face locked in perpetual fear. Mint looks down. Slightly distraught but used to this sight by now.
She decides to move on. She writes an X on her map.

--
She was whisked away swiftly and without a sound. Her mouth covered, black shadowy figures

surrounding her. I only saw her pupils dilate in fear.
Then that was it.
"..."
"How long ago was that?"
"It doesn't feel like it was yesterday
"Must have been years. Decades."
"How old are you now"
She looks down. She inspects the backs of her hands, then turns them around while opening and closing her grip.
"I... don't know at all."
"I happened to remember when my birthday was, at least. 37."
"This body looks like it could be mint but I feel like I'd never seen it before."
"It's... a weird shape."
"It feels like I'm piloting it."
"Extensions where I don't them to be."
"Parts that don't feel like they were there before."

--
It's all rotting. Or maybe it's all rotten already."

--
Mint finds her own blankified body at her parents house.

When she goes to the research lab she finds where the face went.
There are multiple of her.
Then she does really bad things will of them.

--
(redacted)

(redacted)

Step 1: A blunt object, heavy enough to crush a skull, is to be used to incapacitate her with minimal bloodshed. Apply force to leg areas repeatedly until immobilized.
Step 2: Using a sharp knife or a scalpel, cut a straight line from the center of the chest to the groin. This will give easy access to the internal organs.

Step 3: Remove and optionally destroy any undesired organs, work with care so that the subject does not die during this step.
Step 4: Dispose of the
NEW INSTRUCTIONS IN
Step 4: Suspend subject in stasis liquid, monitoring for brain waves.

--
(redacted)
Playing with my toys, my dolls.
Playing house, playing family.
Never quite having anything together.
Tried to love at some points. Never was convinced any of it was authentic.

(redacted)
Stupid fucking little girl.
I hate you so much
leave me the fuck alone.
You made me look like this
Hideous
Shortened lifespan.
Absent family
Hurts so much
Leave me alone
You killed Sunrosa
You killed her
Absent her character
125,552
556,723
672,338
196,724
484,698

All of this is just one giant joke
Rip it away from me in an instant
Fuck yourselves
End

--

(redacted)

365! 365 365 365, 365 365365365365365365365365365365365365365365365
What a kooky silly crazy number!

--
Is killing people an art piece?

--

(redacted)

(redacted)

I also have the tendency to think about it a lot. Too much even. It becomes distracting.
Fuck my stupid bunny life.

--
(redacted)

--
(Large scratched out section of text)

--
I must've been drugged. I hazily wake up somewhere unfamiliar, accompanied with lots of other unfamiliar sights and sensations.
For one, my head is fucking killing me.
Second, why can't I move. I look down. My arms are duct taped tight behind my back. My legs are as well. Knees up to my chest. I'm in a corner of this bright, bright room. The only sight is white walls and grey polished concrete. I am also wearing what looks like a white hospital gown. The silence here is deafening. I can hear my own

stomach turning in anxiety in great detail. Struggling is no use and so I wait. Eventually the sound of footsteps. Getting closer. Then they stop in front of the door, a big grey heavy metal door. A lock clicks unlocked, then the door opens. In steps a very professional-looking woman. She looks taller than me, but it's hard to tell from the ground. She has short cropped brown hair. Glasses. A cutesy round face which betrays her fit and ideal body which was hiding underneath the lab coat. Without any words even any glances toward me, she methodically gears up. Removing lab coat. Rolling up sleeves. Unbuttoning her shirt's top two buttons. I watch in a daze, she begins to stretch while facing away from me. Her flexibility is quite something. From inside a leather pouch I had guessed I missed her bringing in, she removes a knife. I begin to sweat. I'm jittery but also trying to

Stay as still as possible. She slices through the layers of duct tape with ease. She has no labored breaths as she does this, almost as if it's muscle memory for her. Once all of my restraints are lifted she gives her first bit of eye contact to me, though it is accompanied with a quick hand signal, "Get up". I stand, shakily, but surely, and look at her. She eyes me, inspected all parts of my body. It's an analytics the way in which she does this. I start to look away in embarrassment. It's not often I get stared at like this. She suddenly snaps at me to get my attention. She points at me and tugs on her shirt near her chest. Another signal. Though I wonder if she really wants me to. I ask her. She nods, ever so slightly tilting her head. I press my lips together and sigh, then I remove the gown I was wearing. Surprised to see I'm wearing a pair of panties and a bra I've never seen before. Both are white too. A little too tight on me, though.

A blank stare, the same one she gave me when she was analyzing me, but... something seems different. She cracks her knuckles and rolls her head around her neck. She takes a deep breath, then--!?
Without hesitation, without warning, she swings a fist right at my cheek. The impact nearly causes me to pass out. On the floor, clutching my cheek, I look up at her. She looks bored. I curl up in pain. Before I can anticipate it, before I even understand what just happened, she kicks me right underneath my ribcage. All of the air leaves my lungs. The sharp impact strikes me with a fear I never once felt in my life. My mouth quivers, a word trying to escape, hopelessly. "W-W-Wh--" My face flushed with emotion and pain, I feel a tear form in one of my eyes. "Wh-why?" She ignores me . Another kick, lower this time, right at my lower stomach, my bladder and almost my crotch. I try to block out the pain, but it's no use. She kicks me again, and again, and again, in various

places of my body. The thoughts start to disappear into feelings. Pain. Pain. Scared. Pain. Help. Help.
After the barrage of kicks is over, I lay motionless on the floor. I hear the quiet tapping of liquid hitting the polished concrete floor. My own blood, dripping from my head. A warmth between my legs, suddenly. I've wet myself. I cough up more blood. Surely from newly introduced internal bleeding. Blood stains my skin, my undergarments, her boots and pantyhose. She steps on my torso, then over me. She then drops down to a straddling position over me. She looks me in the eyes for the second time while pulling her sleeves back again and fixing her gloves. I try to open my mouth to ask a question but all that comes out is a whimper. She punches me square in the side of my head for the effort. Then again, on the other side, knocking my head back and forth between her two fists, my blood flying out my face. I slowly close my eyes. my teeth are knocked out

knocked loose, cracked, chipped...

--

(redacted)

--
"You have to love someone for who they are and where they are, and not for what or where they could be."

(redacted)

--

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--

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--

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(redacted)

--
The thick dripping and sloshing echo throughout the empty corridor.
A giggle. Then a laugh. Then a full on laugh attack, in hysterics through. a smile. ther teeth aren't perfect by any means, and we havent even mentioned the blood on her face. Somehow this scene is beautiful. Gone are the mountains and landscapes and picturesque harbors. All you are given is industry, metal, darkness, and a single girl who can't seem to stop laughing.
What's so funny, huh!?
There's a clang as she drops a shovel onto freshly-poured concrete. She paces around and through the puddles of blood that surround her. No one could have stopped her.

--
Morning comes. She can't go home anymore. Someone's noticed, or

will at any moment. She picks at her teeth in boredome. Her thoughts spell it all out for her. These ungrateful fucking pricks. Clang. Her stupid fucking smile. Clang. That annoying little squeaker of a dog. Clang.
The wind is constant, but today it blows to the Easte. She gets an idea. She dusts off her hands then pushes off the electrical box she sat on. Her clothes are now only a little red. Thank goodness for this raincoat.

--
Mint and Parasite's many realities.
The story of Ribboncutter is told through many dream-realities, where every time the perspective changes between Mint and Parasite, they will find themselves in a new reality set with its own set of rules. Jumping from the post-apocalyptic Foamfield to a desolate space colony, a convoluted wrestling storyline, the irradiated world of rabbits that all live in tunnels underground.

Mint is a constant in these worlds, displaying new parts of her personality every time she ends up somewhere new. She sometimes remembers the one definitive childhood romance from time to time, memories fed in droplets, with the occasional flash of passion. Mint is someone desperate for love. She doesn't always understand how it works though. She loves many people throughout the numerous worlds and in different ways and learns more things about herself through each relationship.

--
Strangling someone with a snake plush

--

(redacted)

(redacted)

I'm a worm crawling around in shit.

(redacted)

shortcuts.

--
Hahaha
Foamfield Research and its inner workings.

Foamfield Research advertises themselves as a product testing and quality control contracting business. Businesses developing new products can send in their prototypes to FR where it will be then tested, with the results sent back. FR's main draw is an advertised "patented, secret method" to which their testing is able to (supposedly) emulate human testing while remaining "ethical and legal"

From there, they then had to figure out a way to actually get the testing done. It is unknown how or why, but FR is working on practically unlimited money. This allows them to buy the silence of any contracted worker.

(redacted)

Mint clones have existed for an incredible amount of time. They simply appear out of a random place and then they find their way around natrually. Most of them just end up dead. Ancient skeletons preserved in rock. Some of them have lived out their entire lives. A quiet lady in her cottage. An alleged witch burned at the stake. An author, never once photographed or painted. One of them you recognize from your history books. Over time these "spawnings" all started to converge near one area. One spawned there in the 70s. She was taken in by a very unfortunate and cruel family. Her treatment was on the news for years after that. Her name wasn't Mint. She was never given one. The Patch Girl she become known to be. The house was just beyond a popular local pumpkin patch. She stayed in the public conscious for years, decades. The Patch Girl's

whereabouts are unknown.

One cold day in 1996, a woman surveying land in a remote area came across an entire family of Mint clones. They

--
Unattainable thing, you
I'll fling myself at the thought everyday but it'll never happen

--
"Does this road lead back?"
"Idk dude I've never been here..."
The two continue down an icy path in dead winter.
Sounds of wolves, owls.
One of them rubs their bare arms, clearly unprepared for this situation.
"W-we need to be careful of wolves."
"I fucking know already."
B notices A shivering and offer her scarf. After she wraps the scarf around her she begins to try to get closer to B, who immediately shoves her away.
"What's wrong with you today?"
A looks down and away, shaking the melted snow off her fingers.
"Pretty sure this is leading us back."

"You want me to fucking leave you here???"
More silence."
"...wouldn't be the worst thing you did to me."
B stops in her tracks.

A scented switch a nested blacktop turning over and over endlessly bright pink flesh through your eyelids and children vomiting at your feet

Don't make it worse just keep sweating and making yourself pliable and malleable tear parts of yourself off stick it to the walls vehicles will fold you in half for free.

Plink plink plink your destiny is sewn in little 3-part segments accompanied by the pavlov'd iconography allowed to follow you through the haze and into the stall from which your only contribution to society is born.

Knives sing such a sweet little song for me anytime we're near. I wanna sing along, but the words confuse me.

I imagine it on a microscopic level. That's probably like cutting into a nylon bag with a knife. Just fibers stretching and tearing bit by bit on these gigantic 1-inch marks.

Her arms remind me of birch trees. Her eyes do, too. The corners are darkened, years of tears.
Imagining that expression of pain, as well as every other expression. Never take me away from her face.
I like it too much to want to die

Mint seeks revenge but ultimately falling in love is a form of revenge that she only feels comfortable with

Mint going through the "6 bosses" and developing herself while also taking things from each of those 6.

does not actually die but is rendered useless.
Mint makes great use of her but starts to feel too much pity for her in a world where everyone is facing pretty substantial problems.
Sets Mint toward a sort of independence ultimately.
19. "that was fucked up let's never talk about it again ok?"
the first echo of parasite on her lawn and with a hammer. she... kind of looks like me...? an experi-mint clone who went the exact opposite route. her face disappeared after she died. considerable darkness in Mint after this. She never wanted to be a fighter, but now she has to be the very best one.

Aaah-
Aaaaaaaaaaa!!!
...
...?
I can feel it but, I can't hear it.
My screams go nowhere.
They're thorny. Can't come out.
Stuck inside me.

I feel enveloped. A vagueness perpetuated
A greyish dark blue. The lack of comprehensible light or sound.

A panic shouldve surely set in by now. Instead, I'm waiting. Waiting for something else to happen, as if to confirm my panic.
...
But it doesn't come.
What's left is my consciousness.
Breathing but not really.
Thinking, but not actually.

Oh, what's that-
(A pink hostility comes forth, the Nap begins.)

(Explosions, heavy winds, radio static, interference, bird calls, animals whimpering, people screaming)
(Colors are pleasant. The sky is pretty this evening. But the clouds have something to say about it. They turn sour, damp. The sky is now dark green. A ghostly glow from the horizon illuminates what the black clouds obscure.)

It was the first time I could ever recall a haunting wanting to die.

Surely, these thoughts are only temporary, I thought.

(Mint walks from place to place in a metaphysical space. It looks like her grandma's house, but doesn't feel anywhere as welcoming. Her face only shows gently held strength. She isn't sure of the situation but it didn't take her long to get used to it.)

(She walks up the creaky carpeted steps. As her head pokes up from the last one, camera zooms out to reveal she is now less than half the size as normal. The blank walls are infinitely taller.)
(At the end of the hall, Mint sees the partially translucent shadow representation of a young boy sleeping on a couch. A book is in his hands, but as he falls asleep he loses his grip and it falls to the carpet.)
(Mint walks slowly toward the book, carefully making sure not to wake the boy.)
(She picks the book up. She holds it up to her. It's a children book called Ribboncutter. The cover has cutesy illustrations of all four main characters holding hands and smiling. The sun in the sky is also smiling. Everyone is wearing a red ribbon in some way.)
(Mint's face is shown for the first time looking at this book. It slowly zooms in on her as

the realization of what she's holding sets in. This is interspersed with hard cuts of what happens to the world during the Nap.
Censored animals being ripped apart, their flesh seeming to be magnetized to other flesh. Their blood is black, endless, messy. Buildings decay rapidly under green skies. Graves multiply and span the world. The living are sawn into the walls.)
(Mint's mouth slowly opens in horror. She looks as if she's about to scream and just before she does, cut to black.)
(Cue an intro of sorts)

tornado turning red with blood

Act 1 - setting stage
Mint - has a darkness that haunts her and has haunted her since the very beginning. despite this, she managed to find a way to live at peace in Foamfield
Aceta - Mint's foil. Tends to be pretty intense about everything

Act 2: Everything
Mint - Tries to maintain a moral balance throughout her life but is pushed to further and further extremes by both the world and Aceta's doings. Aceta convinces Mint to not search for "that girl" who is not named (Sunrosa or Sunrosa-type character). With nothing to live for and to search for, Mint gives into her crisis for a bit, living carelessly, though with her moral compass relatively intact.
Aceta - Disillusioned with the world, yet wanting to know more, Aceta disappears for many months/weeks at a time. Whenever she comes back, Mint seems to be doing slightly worse. Out of care for her Aceta decides to have a talk with Mint about this unhealthy drive that she has. Mint knows its killing her, too. Mint gives up the search but now she is unsatisfied.

The point at which Mint gives up on Sunrosa ever coming back
Ribboncutter without Mint searching for Ibis and instead searching for her twin sister.
Mint has always felt alone.
Estranged from her family, had no siblings, and only knows she had a twin sister at some point. She does a lot of daydreaming obout what life would have been like with her sister. Sometime she pretends Aceta is her sister secretly. But the two are generally uncompatible, getting into arguments quite a lot.

--

(redacted)

--
This made its way to you because you are an Experiment. A clone of a clone. Heaven and Hell don't exist for experiments. All there is is the pattern of confront, then unwind. Breathe in, breathe out. "Is it of any benefit

to me?" A question to ask. Benefit doesn't always mean things like more freedom or better body or prettier place. A benefit could mean something as little as holding the door. Cleaning after yourself.

You asked to be instilled with a life to be proud of, a life to feel safe in. (reverse order of those two things?)
Sin is natural hate is natural catharsis is reached through any means as as social barriers brak further and further by the day it becomes nearly impossible to gauge where you exactly have a problem deep within you.
Fall to the wayside, tears abundant. For ever-present. Every breath in and out consumes you. Prescribed for the feeble knees and the dull blades, your epiphany arrives. Sickening approaches lead lead-footed. The tools are already in our hands and the match is waiting to be struck.

200 years of seeking safety is gonna read so funny when you look back at them.
Of course, no one knows at all what they're doing. Can you make it dance? Cry? Leap? Set boundaries?
A clipart image of a liar, an aimless child, a grave with a little flower sticking out.
Entropy & You! A guide by Mentha Nolana.
"Cookies are expensive as shit"
"swear to god they're making them smaller everyday."
A dewy spring morning greets us all when you being to speak.
I'll burn what it is that looms over and keeps the charcoal cold. Any subconscious

Strength held with grace
Torn off your face

Aceta disappears from Mint for many days at a time and always returns iinjured in some way. Shge says its because she works "security detail" but Mint knows something is up. She's actually joined a fighting/wrestling club. The rules are mor or less standard pro wrestling rules where there is an understood code between the two fighters. It isn't like MMA. Aceta gets in deep trouble with someone out there and disappears. Mint sets out to find her and stumbles upon the club. She's taken in and starts to tag with Aceta. Mint isn't a great fighter but slowly she begins to improve. Dissension forms between the two. Aceta betrays Mint and leaves her bloody in the ring. Mint goes dark for a bit. Brooding. She vows to get her revenge in the ring soon.

Aceta and Mint get the promoters to sign off on no DQ matches and street brawls because they'll bring good business in

Q: What good is money in a post-apocalypse? What incentive do the wrestlers have to do this?

DOUBLE FUCKING KNOCKOUT

Both lie bloody on the mat.
they both come to.
They see each others exhausted faces. They smile. Their hands touch.

Music is paulstretch ambient jingles similar to windows 95 startup

If the moment doesn't exist then invent it!!!

Do it! Do it! Do it you fucking idiot!

Absorb the blow and keep moving!

I'll teach you to use my move?

Mint is already a wrestler. Though she isn't anything impressive. She doesn't ever win and she hates herself for it. Aceta's been in the business much longer and has seen more success. Wrestling is how the two of them get by in this bleak world. They jump from place to place. Mint and Aceta used to love each other, but as they grew older that love faded and what remained was an apathetic life with codependency on top. They still care for each other like sisters and even call each other by such term. Aceta gets place on a pedestal in a way that shows up Mint. Mint gets jealous. Eventually the two have a match for a minor title, and Mint, blinded with jealousy, shoots on Aceta and pins her even though it wasn't the plan. It wasn't received by Aceta and management well though, eventually it skyrocketed Mint's popularity and so she isn't reprimanded for what she did. Mint receives a video message

from Aceta. She's in front of an unmarked gravestone. Aceta tells her that this grave is empty and that you're fucked in the head. Mint loses it. The grave is for Mint's unborn twin sister. Mint's sister is introduced here as a sort of guardian angel to Mint. She gives crucial advice to Mint but also sets Mint on a violent path. Aceta and Mint are given a match against each other

--
Description of pain:
-Things start to feel as if they're happening out of order
-Almost like feeling like a child

--
Little sister demon child haunts your thoughts makes you worse and for nothing positive in return
I pray for your safety she said at first and even though

it was appreciated what happend after is anything but safe. Risky maneuver the words that are said often around you. Little sister is always waiting there for you regardless if you succeed or not. She will call you names and point you in the wrong directions yet when you try to ignore her she'll throw a fit and become even louder SHE'LL NEVER LEAVE no matter what happens and when you die she'll just move on with the next big sister. At least its what she says she'll do. I get the feeling instead she'll let it ruin her. Some good she is.

--
The gate to Experi-Mints enclosure is left open, however she does not attempt to escape at all whatsoever. She stands there, terrified, staring at it. The next morning the researchers come back and see the enclosure's lock is open. They look at her and know, cowering in fear, that she'd never try to escape anyway. The outside world is too scary.

a group of experi-mint girls one of them talks about how much they like spending time with one of the researchers
another teases her about it, says she's in love
she blushes and looks at the floor, thinking about if its true, if she's experiencing love for the first time.
she disappears the next day.

--
-Can you tell me exactly where the problem lies within you?
521: I don't know, it feels like I just never really existed. They turned me into something I wasn't, but I don't remember what I was. It's blank. A hole in my brain. Soon there'll be nothing but holes.
-And so how do you feel everyday?
521: Like I'm going to die. Like one day it'll all catch up to me and coax me in and snuff me out.
-What would you like for us to do for you?
521: Let me out. Or kill me. I can't stand another second here. I've already seen where I belong and it is not here. For as much

as you've all given me I can't figure out the path forward. This is no way to live. This is hell.

--
Christmas day in the lab

521 is given a onesie which she immediately puts on. She looks like a little white bunny. Jumping around. Sniffing at the floor. No one told her to do these things. Bunnies are her favorite animal and have been so since the animal interaction experiment. She always asks about the bunny. Where it is. How its doing. If she can see it again

--
Mintagonist speaking.
It is horrifying. Abhorrent.
I wouldn't do this to my worst enemy. I'm at a loss of words. I'm not sure where I can put my thoughts anymore. You're putting me in a box and letting me die slowly. I have to retaliate. I have to hold you down and burn your face into mush. To make you regret ever being born.

Help. Help. Help. I can't scream any louder than this. The doctors are lobotomizing me through modern means.

--
"I have something to append to the report." A slip of paper with printed text. It reads:

528 turned to me before I left.
Asked "Is this the way things will be for the rest of my life?"
I did not answer and closed the door.

END